Taur Ingem

His face has become as paper, but thereon nothing is writ. No words can mask the bone and blood that wait behind.

I came here seeking succor, but what would I not now give to halt this seeping decrepitude? I bow deeply, thankful this will hide him from my sight.

Will my father appear as such when again I am home? Will I?

Is this then the fate of us all?







Taur Ingem = (sindarin) Aged King